Rat Bite Fever
by Just-Caro
Summary: Michelangelo gets plagued by rat bites after the encounter with the Rat King and his little rodents.
1. Prologue: Bitten

_Hey Everyone!_

_Well, I just saw I, Monster for the first time. I think I must've missed that episode or something. Anyway, I thought a lot more could've happened afterwards. So. I came up with this idea b/c a friend of mine got bite by a rat and well...STOP! Almost gave everything away right there...don't want that. lol...so you'll have to wait!_

_Happy Reading!_

_I deticate this fic to my best friend Lily!_

**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the charcters only the plot_**

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**PROLOGUE**

Another shudder came over Michelangelo as he sat in the back of the battle shell, thinking over the events that just occured. His eyes gazed out the squared small windows in the back door, the abdoned warehouse becoming increasingly smaller as they sped away. He could have sworn, however, as he squinted his eyes, that a figure in the distance stood tall over a building, it's eyes following their small truck as it disappeared into the dirt road.

He sat back slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and let his eyes fall from the window, which found an interest in Casey's navy blue sneakers instead. Slowly swaying and bouncing as the truck ran over bumps in the road, Michelangelo felt an itch at the base of his neck. Absently, he scratched at it, relieving the prickle that pulsed through. Soon after, however, he felt another pang of an itch near his ankles, but this was more of a burning, stinging sensation and Michelangelo found himself clawing at it vigorously.

"Yo Mike, yah iight, man?" Casey asked as he took the duffel bag from around his back and set it aside by his legs.

"No, dude! I'm itching everywhere!" Michelangelo exclaimed in a whiney voice as he switched back to claw at the side of his neck. He could feel a slight flow of warm liquid run over his fingers as he did this. Striking this as odd, Michelangelo pulled back his hand and looked over. His eyes went wide, "I-I'm..bleeding!"

Casey furrowed his brow at this and shot a glance at the others. Donatello was driving, his eyes glued to the road and Leonardo rode passenger. Raphael was kneeled between the two seats, bickering with both brothers over the radio station of choice.

He rolled his eyes._ 'Brothers'_ he thought.

"Let's see what yah got there, Mike." Casey said, moving over tosit next to his friend, who was whimpering with fright of the situation. He let out an exasperated sigh, pushing Michelangelo's hand away and bent over to get a better look at it. Reeling his head away almost instantly at the sight he managed to grasp, Casey moved towards the others.

"I ain't listenin' to no classical music, Don!" Raphael was saying.

Casey cleared his throat slightly. "Uh, Guys - "

"Raph, for the last time - sit back!" Leonardo replied in an aggarvated voice. "We're almost there, I can see the garage from here."

"Uh, guys, there's something wrong wit - " Casey was cut off.

"So, what's a few seconds?" Raphael objected, reaching forward to switch the radio dial.

"Raph, I'm trying to drive!" Donatello complained loudly, swatting his older brother's hand away. "Do you want me to crash?"

"Look, We're already here." Leonardo said as the garage came into full view.

"Guys!" Casey exclaimed, becoming impatient with their sibling bickering.

"What is it, Case?" Raphael asked, with raised eye ridges. "If yah forgot somethin' back there, we ain't goin' back to get it for yah."

Casey dismissed him. "Somethin' wrong wit, Mike. He got some bites, from the rats, I think, and they're bleedin'." the words came out in a rush.

Donatello, who had been pulling into the garage, slammed the brakes, causing the truck to lurch forward. From the back, Michelangelo, let out a groan of protest as his head banged against the door.

"Oww, you need to work on your braking skills, Don." his voice was laced with pain.

Raphael grunted, "He sounds all right to me."

"Raph..." Leonardo said warningly as Donatello unstrapped himself from the seat.

The purple banded turtle stepped past Raphael and disappeard into the back of the truck to examine over his little brother. Michelangelo was scratching at his ankles, his teeth clenched as he emitted a low hissing sound.

"Mikey, stop scratching, " Donatello instructed, cradling his brother's foot in his hands and inspecting it. "Ouch, bro. Those rats got a mean chunk of flesh from you."

At this comment, Raphael and Leonardo came over to inspect the damage. Casey let out a low whistle.

"Glad it ain't me." was Raphael's reply.

"I love you too, bro." Michelangelo replied, sticking out his tounge. It disappered quikly back into his mouth as he let out a hiss at the slight touch against the bites on his ankles. He pulled his back from Donatello's grasp. "That hurt!"

Leonardo placed his hand on Michelangelo's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

"It's swollen and a bit infected." Donatello said. You're gonna have to lay off your right foot until the swelling goes down. I'll get it cleaned up in the lair."

Michelangelo grimaced as a tingle overcame the back of his neck, "I gotta another one... " he turned around, showing his neck to his brother.

"I'm gonna have to check you out, Mikey." Donatello said, frowning. "I think you might need a rabies shot, too."

"I'm so looking forward to that." Michelangelo remarked, sarcastically.

* * *

_how was it? Is it worth continuing?  
I would love to knot what you all think about it!  
_

_Feed the hungry author some reviews! ;)_


	2. Just the Beginning

_A/N: Hey Everyone!_

_I hope you'll enjoy this chapter than the other. It's a bit longer! Thanks to everyone who reveiwed!_

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

The one thing Michelangelo hated more than vegetables were needles. 

Long, thin, filled with fluid needles that pierce your skin and cause such immense pain that you just want to scream! Michelangelo snorted, he knew he was over exaggerating, but he just couldn't stop from squriming at the thought of getting injected.

Just after the reveal of Michelangelo's rat bites, the young orange banded turtle had hobbled into the lair with Leonardo supporting him. He was seated on the couch and had his small wounds cleaned out thoroughly and then wrapped with bandages and gauze. Soon after, Donatello had taken a small blood sample, much to his dismay and disappeared into his lab with Master Splinter,

"Mike, will yah shutup?!" Raphael told him as he switched through the channels. "I can hear yah whimperin' from here. It's just a lousy shot."

Michelangelo glared at him. "Well, at least you don't see me freaking out over a bug." he retorted. This remark, achieved him a smack upsode the head. "Oww.." he rubbed his head, "You see, that just proves my point."

Raphael raised his hand to inflict more damagae upon his little brother, when suddenly the younger turtle flinched and quickly reached forward and scratched at his ankle. Seeing this as punishment enough, Raphael smirked and leaned back against the couch.

"Michelangelo!" the owner of the voice made the turtle jump in surprise. "Donny said not to scratch."

"But, Leoooo." he whined, ceasing the scratching as his older brother came to stand before him, arms crossed and stoned faced. Michelangelo sighed in defeat, settling to bite on his lip instead and sat back, jiggling his injured foot to help somehow relieve the tingling, burning pain.

Leonardo turned his gaze onto Raphael, who seemed unaffected and continuted to ignore his presence and immerse himself in the wrestling match. The eldest turtle opened his mout to say something - probably to scold, when Donatello appeared into the room with Master Splinter by his side.

At their arrival, Michelangelo let out a small shriek, diving under the protection of the orange blankets he had wrapped himself in. If he had to be injected, then he was going to put one hell of a fight. His brothers, used to this reaction in the past, were ready to hold down the struggling and shaking turtle if needed.

"It's all right, Mikey." Donatello said, smiling. "You won't be needing any sort of shot."

Michelangelo let out a breath as he peered out from behind his thin shield material. When he noted no needle, he let down his guard and grinned. "That's a relief."

"You should be thankful, though." Donatello continued. "It's impossible for cold blooded animals to get rabies, but just for a precaution, I gave Master Splinter a rabies vaccination. He'll be given it once year."

Michelangelo shrugged. "Rather him than me." At this he received three smacks and a whack by a staff upside his head. "Heeeey - ouuuch...Aw, c'mon, I don't need a bump on my head, either. The last thing I need is brain damage."

Raphael snorted. "Too easy to insult you on that, Mikey. I ain't even gonna try to comeback."

"Har, Har, Har." Michelangelo snapped, with light amusement. Then he looked to his brainy brother. "So, I'm okay?"

"Yeah, Mike, you're fine. Just - don't scratch or I'll have to tape mittens over your hands." Donatello replied with a smirk.

"As much as I find that amusing, I get a feeling you're not joking." Michelangelo said suspicously.

"Nothing gets passed you." Leonardo said, teasingly.

Michelangelo looked to Master Splinter for a direct answer, but the old rat simply smiled mischieviously. "Goodnight, my sons." he said, bowing his head in departure. "Oh, and Donatello I believe Michelangelo keeps the mittens in the right top cupboard of the kitchen - just for future refrence."

"What?!" Michelangelo squeaked, sitting up straight. "No, I don't!" he turned his head and glared at his father's retreating figure. "Master Splinter, how could you betray me?"

* * *

"Can you take these off now, Don?" Michelangelo whined for the umpteenth time as he tried to pick up the can of soda before him. It slipped at his grasp and tumbled to the floor, spilling it's green liquidy contents onto the stoned floor. 

"Maybe if you would have taken my advice Monday, I wouldn't have had to bind your hands with mittens." Donatello answered as he sipped his morning coffee.

"But, it's been five days!" Michelangelo shot back, pouting. "The bite marks are almost gone and they don't itch, or burn, or tingle, or hurt, or - "

"Don, take them freakin' things off." Raphael growled from he sleepily sat at the kitchen table. "I can't stand to hear his whiney voice at this hour of tha mornin'. S'too early."

"Good, you're all ready for practice." Leonardo said, appearing in the room and causing all three of his brothers to flinch in surprise.

"I'm really gettin' sick of this mood of yours, Leo." Raphael muttered, glaring fron under half closed lids.

Leonardo chose to ignore his younger brother's comment and instead turned to Michelangelo. "Are you feeling better, Mikey? Seems to me you're - "

With a thud, Michelangelo dropped to the floor, clutching his ankle in mock hurt. "Ow ow ow! It hurts! The pain...the agony...the - OW!" he sat up, pouting and clutched his foot. "Leo, get your fat three toed foot off my leg! You're cutting off the cirrculation, dude!"

"Diagnosis, Don?" Leonardo asked over his shoulder.

"What do you call hopping around the kitchen, begging me to take off the mittens from his hands?" Donatello asked, smirking triumphantly at the look he was getting from his younger brother.

"First Master Splinter and now you." Michelangelo muttered, picking himself up. "What is this world coming to?"

After much teasing and laughing and smart remarks, Michelangelo's mittens were removed after a serious talk about no more scratching or rubbing his still healing bites. Before morning practice, Donatello sent his little brother to the bathroom to wash and bandage the bites on his ankles. The scratches at the base of his neck had completely healed and vanished, leaving small dark scar of rememberance.

Michelangelo turned on the sink, humming merrily to himself as he unwrapped his old bandanges to clean out the puss that grew and dried overnight. This time, however, the bite wasn't pussing at all, it was bleeding. Struck with confusion, Michelangelo grabbed a soapy wet cloth and slowly dabbed at his ankle, hissing in pain as the blood seeped through the white material. Figuring this was part of the healing process, the young turtle made sure the bleeding was stopped before he applied gauze and wrapped new bandages around his injury.

"Not too bad, Mikester." He muttered to himself proudly.

"Mikey?" Leonardo materilazed at the entrance of the bathroom.

"Stop with the vanishing and appearing out of the shadows act, dude." Michelangelo scolded after he jumped five feet into the air.

"Do you need any help?" Leonardo asked. "You're taking a longer time than usual."

Michelangelo recalled the bleeding of his injured foot and deiced not to say anything about it. "No, dude. I'm cool, just had to rebandage a few times - mistakes, y'know?"

"Well, come on. We're wating on you."

Michelangelo grinned as he followed his older brother into the Dojo where Master Splinter and his two brothers were waiting pateintly on him. "Sorry." he said, grabbing his nunchucks from their place on the rack.

"Now that we are all present, let us begin with a sparring session." Master Splinter began. "I want Leonardo with Donatello and Raphael with Michelangelo."

A groan escaped the throat of the youngest turtle as he faced off with Raphael. He knew, despite his injuries that his brother would not go easy on him. The look in his eyes were enough to confirm it. Michelangelo clutched his chucks, preparing hismelf for an attack, only minorly aware of the warm liquid he felt seeping through his bandages. After a few moments, Michelangelo lashed out, his nuchucks twirrling as he aimed a blow at his brother's torso. Raphael ducked, turning and kicking Michelangelo's shell forward to the ground.

A surge of pain struck through his ankle as he hit the ground. Michelangelo hissed, glaring at his brother and quickly pushed himself up, sending a swift and powerful kick with is good leg at Raphael, who snorted, catching his foot and pushed him forward. Michelangelo stumbled back, but regained his footing and sent his brother to the ground with a hit to his chin. Michelangelo stepped forward and brought his good foot down, but Raphael rolled away, unknowingly sweeping Michelangelo's injured foot from underneath him.

This rough contact, elected a cry of pain as Michelangelo tumbled to the ground, his injured foot now seen with dark liquid that sent drops of blood onto the blue mats of the Dojo.

"Stop!" Master Splinter shouted.

Donatello and Leonardo who had been sparring, came to a halt and looked around in confusion. Raphael was knelt by a whinpering Michelangelo, who's bandage was soaking up minor blood from his rat bites.

"What happened?" Donatello asked, appearing by his younger brother as he inspected the damage.

"Nothing!" Michelangelo replied. "I washed it out like you said, but it started bleeding and I washed it out some more. It stopped, so I thought it was okay, but it really hurt and now I feel like my foot is being shredded."

"Maybe after Leo stepped on your leg, it caused some of the blood to -." Donatello said, wiping the bloodied bite with the used gauze.

"Well, a little advice to Leon." Michelangelo said. "Lose some weight - owww!"

"You asked for that one." Raphael said, smirking as Michelangelo rubbed his head where Leonardo had smacked him.

"Michelangelo, enough of your foolishness." Master Splinter said. "You are exempt from practice and patrolling until your bites are fully healed."

"But, it's just a bit of blood!" Michelangelo exclaimed, but winced harshly when Donatello poked it softly with the gauze pad. "That hurt!"

"Point proven." Donatello said.

"Should we bring out the mittens again?" Leonardo asked, good naturally, earning smiles from the other except Michelangelo who sent him a look of betrayal.

"First, Sensei, then Donny and now you. " Michelangelo said, hurt. "You know, I expected this more from Raph."

"Yeah, even I'm surprised at mahself." then Raphael smirked. "He re-stashed the mittens. They're in the kictchen, under the sink."

Michelangelo grunted, throwing his hands up in the air. "I rest my case."

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_A/N: Not too good with the sparring scene, but I hoped you liked it anyway. Don't worry, this is only the beginning. There's alot more in the next chapter. hehe _

_Review, please? Pretty please...with a Mikey on top?_

_Caro_


	3. Nightmare Fever

_A/N: Hey Everyone!_

_Sorry for the delayed updates. I've been sick with a cold and then it turned into the flu. I had to go to the hospital because my temperature was really high. But, I'm okay now, just a slight fever now. I just hope I get better for Homecoming! lol  
_

_Anyway, I want to take the time for those who have reviewed and added me to their alert list or whatever. THANK YOU! They made my day when I signed on this morning. hehe_

_I won' t delay you any further..._

_**SLIGHTLY EDITED**_

* * *

"New High Score!" Michelangelo shouted from where he sat on the couch. 

"You know, Mikey. If you put in half the effort you do playing video games into practice, you'd probably make a much better ninja." Leonardo told him as he paused and looked up from the newspaper.

Michelangelo scoffed at that. "Apparently, you have no idea who you're talking to, bro."

Raphael growled, stopping his beating of the punching bag. "You jus' had to encourage him."

"Here we go." Donatello said under his breath, glancing up from his book.

Michelangelo was now cupping his ear. "I'm guessing by the silence that you all don't have any idea who you're talking to!" he leapt atop the couch and grinned. "Well, it will be my pleasure to remind you..." the orange banded turtle cleared his throat dramatically. "Turtles...- oh, and Raph," Rapheal growled and narrowed his eyes at that. "I introduce to you the undeniabley, ravishing all-star - MICHELANGELO, BATTLE NEXUS CHAMPION"

He waved heartily to an imaginary crowd of people, distributing a bow here and there.

"What is all the commotion?" Master Spliner asked, retreating from the meditation room. He turned to the orange banded turtle. "Michelangelo, please get off from standing on the couch and since you seem to be capable of standing on your own two feet, perhaps we should have a private training session tonight."

"But Sen- " he broke off at the piercing look his father gave him and sighed instead.

"Begin with stretching and then thirty flips as a warm up, my son." Master Splinter said. "I will come to join you shortly."

"Yes, Sensei." Michelangelo replied with a bow before he headed off towards the Dojo.

Leonardo folded up the newspaper and stood up from the chair. "If you want, Sensei. I will instruct Michelangelo for tonight."

Master Splinter shook his head. "Thank you, Leonardo, but no. Take your brothers and go out for patrol, I expect you to be back by ten o'clock and no later."

"Yes, Sensei." Leonardo said and motioned for his brothers.

"It's about time!" Raphael exclaimed as Master Splinter watched them head out the lair. "I've been craving for some action!"

"Raph, we're not looking for trouble..." Donatello contined on as he follwed them out with Raphael smart mouthing him back, their voices fading as the doors closed behind them.

Master Splinter sighed, rubbing his forehead and joined his son in the Dojo only to stop when he found his young son, scratching at the back off his neck. "Michelangelo, what is the meaning of this?! I thought I told you to start on your stretches?"

"I did!" Michelangelo replied in a whiney voice. "But, I fell after I lost my footing while sumersaulting in the air and now my neck is itchyyyyy!"

"Let me take a look." the old rat motioned for his son to turn around kneel so he could inspect him. His eyes widened at the blotchy, bleeding spot that Michelangelo had been scratching at. "Oh no, my son. You cannot train in this condition, it seems the antibiotics that Donatello has been using is not helping..." he sighed, helping him up. "I will clean and wrap it up for tonight and then you are to go straight to bed. Perhaps, it would be wise to phone Leatherhead on this. How is your ankle? "

"It's okay for now." Michelangelo said, glancing down at himself as he followed his father out of the Dojo "It's just numb."

"Just as a precaution, I will bind your ankle up as well." Master Splinter said as an afterthought. He took notice as Michelangelo reached up. Taking his wooden walking stick in hand, Master Splinter whapped his son.

"Owwwww!" was the expected reply as Michelangelo recoiled and rubbed furiously at his stinging hand. "What was that for?"

"It seems I will have to get the mittens out as well." Master Splinter said, grabbing Michelanelo by the arm and seating him on the couch. "That is the only way I can keep from scratching and irritating your skin further." he added when the orange banded turtle groaned in response before getting up to go and retrieve the first aide kit. When he returned and patched up Michelangelo, who was grimacing in pain throughout. Finally, he set away the supplies and sent his son up to bed. "I will check up on you in in the morning."

"See you tommorrow, Sensei." Michelangelo mumbled, miserably.

"Good Night, my son."

Michelangelo entered his room, closed the door behind him and turned on his small lava lamp or as Raphael liked to call it, "night light." He climbed into bed, knowing full well that Master Splinter was probably listening. So, he settled himseld in between his orange sheets and stared at spot on the wall long enough to hear his brothers return home before he drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

_"Hello?" Michelangelo called down a lone tunnel._

_A scurrying sound and a flash of a shawdow caught his attention and he whirrled around. "Leo? Is that you?..."_

_No answer. "Raph...Don?...Sen-Sensei?"_

_Clunk_! _Clunk!_

_Scratching sounds echoed around him._

_"Dudes, this isn't...this isn't funny, anymore." he said, feeling around for his nunchucks. The lights flickered on and off, casting an eerie kind of feeling in the tunnel. Hearing a slight rumbling noise, Michelangelo swallowed and leaned his ear against the wall. _

_As if knowing he was there, a hoard of small rats spilled from a large crack in the wall. Squeaking and scurrying over his feet and soon rising towards his ankles, their red eyes glowing in the darkness. Michelangelo was panicking, his breath becoming short as he slowly started to be engulfed in the mountain of rats as they contined to shew at his flesh and rising in numbers up to his hips. _

_"N-no..." he whimpered, closing his eyes. _

_The evil laugh of the Rat King bounced off the walls, staring down at his victim from a railing above._

Michelangelo shifted in his sleep for what must have been the thousandth time since his head hit the pillow of his bed. He let out a yelp as he awoke from another nightmare and stared up at the ceiling. By now it was midnight and the light snores from the rooms outside of his told him his brothers had found their sleep much more easily than he had. He yawned, pushing the nightmare from his mind, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and placing his feet onto the stone ground of the lair. A slight purring from his left made him flinch and his eyes were brought to a ball of fur huddled in the corner of his room.

His orange cat, Klunk was curled up, sleeping peacefully atop of a pile of old newspapaers.

The orange banded turtle smiled with relief, wrapping his orange blanket tightly around him and tip toed out of his quarters towards the main room. He suddenly felt like he had something expanding in his head, pounding away like a drum. Not to mention his stomach, which was turning in knots that he felt like he could throw up any second. He groaned, furrowing his brows and redirected his way to the bathroom instead.

Upon entering, he opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of Ibprofin that stood out from the emptiness of the shelves. He popped two tiny white pills into his mouth, drowning them in water from the sink faucet before he exited the bathroom and dragged his feet into the living area.

He threw himself onto the battered sofa and sighed deeply, stretching his legs out to lay down. His hands scrambled for the clicker and he pressed the power button to turn on the television. A late night scare marathon! Michelangelo settled down into the cushion of the sofa and immeresed himself into the movie, trying hard to ignore the pain of his head and stomach. Slowly, but surely the young turtle drifted into slumber after the second movie of the marathon started. His orange blanket had been kicked off and now layed in a bundle on the ground, leaving him to succumb in the drafty air of the lair.

It was not peaceful sleep. Michelangelo would find himself waking at least every hour before going back into dreamworld. Between the night chills and the stomach pains, he couldn't figure out whether he wanted his blanket or he wanted to throw up all over the floor.

The next time he roused, however, he found himself doubled over the toilet, dishing out the contents in his stomach into the bowl. He groaned, leaning his head against it and sighed, tugging his blanker tighter around him. His body was aching and a tingle was overcoming the back of his neck down towards his arms, it didn't feel nice, it felt like someone was placing an iron hot metal against his skin. It puzzled him just how he had managed to run all this way without tripping his own two feet, but he concluded that would just end himself in an even worse headache.

"Mphf..." he grunted, pushing himself onto his feet. He wavered a bit, but was able to stand after a breif moment. Not wanting to waste any prescious time, Michelangelo flushed the toilet and shuffled back towards his room.

Usually, the thought of being enclosed in darkness would scare him into his shell, but right now he found the the nightlight would not help ease his head. So, for the first time, the young turtle climbed himself into bed, the thoughts of what lay in the shadows of his room far from his mind as he let his lids droop closed.

"Turtle Titan reporting for duty!" Michelangelo shoted as he entered a tower full of superheros.

"Just the turtle we wanted to see," Silver Sentry replied, grinning as he swung an arm around his reptile friend's shoulder.

"There's a maniac terrorizing the city." announced a woman dressed in a red flamed symbol costume. "We heard that you have encountered him before."

"Whoever it is, I can take him." Michelangelo answered. "Bring him on! Is it...The Shredderinator? Did he like he return as some automatic robot who shoots laser from his hands this time...or maybe it's Draco, I never did get along with that dude...or maayyybe - "

"Actually, this time it's someone who we've labeled as - " Silver Senry was cut off.

" - The Rat King." finished a man in a lightning bolt covered costume.

Michelangelo felt his throat go dry.

"Mikey..."

"Mikey, wake up."

"Mike."

"Michelangelo, open your eyes, my son."

Voices drifted into his mind and he groaned against the rushing sound in his ears, his head feeling as if it was being hammered over and over again. He grasped his pillow and shoved it over his head, to keep out the noises that were surrounding him.

"Michelangelo." Master Splinter called in a strict, but gentle tone, moving the pillow from his tight hold over his head. He could hear him whispering something and the murmurs quieted down into silence. "Michelangelo, how are you feeling?" A tone of worry was laced in his voice.

At this question, it seemed that his body seemed to answer as the stinging pain overcame him again. He whimpered, opening his eyes and letting them adjust to the light that filtered his room. His blurry vision cleared and he was finally able to take in his family, who were surrounding his bed with identical looks of worry. Donatello was standing over him with a bowl in his hand and was dabbing a damp cloth at his forehead.

"Mmm..." he murmured, with a small smile. He looked at them through half closed eyes. "Feels good..."

Leonardo was kneeling at his bedside as well on his other side, gripping his hand while Raphael stood by a metal counter littered with tools and gadgets that Michelangelo couldn't recall being in his room. As he took a closer look, however, Michelangelo found he wasn't even in his room, but in Donatello's lab. He furrowed his brows. "Wassa' happenin'...?"

"I found this morning on the floor next to your bed. It seems you had fallen out." Donatello explained. "You have a slight fever though."

"I feel fine, though." Michelangelo replied, sitting up.

"Well, yes, but in reality your body isn't." Donatello explained. At the look his younger brother gave him, he just shook his head. "Forget it, Mikey. You don't need to worry about it anyway. Are you comfortable?"

Michelangelo felt a chill go up his spine and his throat craving for some cool liquid. "Lil' cold...an' I'm thirsty." he confessed sheepishly.

"Should I get his quilt?" Raphael asked, coming over to the group as Donatello handed the sick turtle a glass of water that had been sitting on the counter.

"Yeah, I think it might help with his chills." Donatello replied.

Michelangelo downed the whole glass before crossing his legs indian style against his family protest and gave a half hearted smiled. In reality, everything was killing him! He felt like he had run a hundred laps around the city and smashed into a brick wall.

"Am I gonna get better, Don?" He asked his brainac brother, curiously.

It was the eldest who answered this. "You will." he replied firmly with a slight smile. "Don't worry yourself, Mike. Let us do that."

Michelangelo scoffed as he was forced to lie back down. "So, how did I get so sick all of a sudden?"

Silence.

"That's why I'm here." a voice said from the doorway. Leatherhead stepped into the lab behind Raphael and smiled at his friends.

* * *

_A/N: I think this is my fav chapter so far. I don't know why either._


	4. Normal

_A/N: I edited the last chapter slightly...decided not to put in amy temperatures, I just confused myself. lol.My high school hasn't lost an f-ball game yet! 4 wins 0 losses! woo! Homecoming week and the Homecoming itself was a blast!  
_

_Anyway, Happy Reading!_

* * *

"That cannot be possible." Leatherhead replied, shaking his head after the three eldest brothers explained what happened throughtout the week. "It's rare to contract such an infection from a rodent - rabies, no. In this case, however Michelangelo is cold blooded he cannot get rabies..."

"So what else could it be?" Donatello inquired.

"It is hard to say, my friends." Leatherhead said softly as he spread out varoius materials on the lab counter. "Just a precaution, though...I will need a strep and blood culture."

Michelangelo perked up he watched Donatello comply to the order. "Was' that mean?" he slurred, still under the affects of exhaustion. He never felt so tired in his life.

"A blood culture..." started Leatherhead.

Donatello inturrupted him, "Use small words, L.H." he teased with a knowing smile. The others laughed while Michelangelo just pouted with a hurtfelt look, but a small lopsided smile graced his lips nonetheless.

"A blood culture, my friend," Leatherhead continued, "Are used to check prescence of systematic insanitations and a - Donatello have you finished?" the mutated crocodile, stepped away from Michelangelo's side to aide the purple banded turtle.

"Uhh..."

"It's a test to see if you have any infections in you bloodstream, Mike." Leonardo inserted, nudging the youngest brother with a sigh of exaggeration. "Nothing to worry about."

"..Kay," Michelangelo replied softly, his eyes drooping. Leonardo shook him, bringing the nunchuck holder back into wake. "What...?"

"You have to stay awake for the tests, Mikey."

Michelangelo rolled his eyes and groaned, "Go 'way...'M tired."

"Stop bein' a baby, Mikey!" Raphael said firmly as he came to stand by him. "Don and L.H are doin' these tests that might save ya life!"

"I'm dying...?" Michelangelo stirred, lifting his head up at the statement with widening eyes.

Master Splinter glared at the red banded turtle and smacked him with the end of his walking stick. "This is no time to be fooling around with your brother's head, Raphael. He is ill, you would do well to have patience with him." Raphael clenched his fists, his eyes glued on his sick brother before storming out of the lab. Master Splinter closed his eyes briefly, in a way to calm himself. "Michelangelo, you must forgive your brother. He is just overwhelmed by all that is happening. This is the first time one of you have become so suddenly ill. The only way he deals with his emotions is through anger..."

Surprisingly, Michelangelo had listened intently and nodded in understanding. " 'S jus' Raphie.." he said quietly, then added. "I'm not dyin'..am I?"

"No, my son." Master Splinter assured gently. "You are far from it."

Leonardo stood up as Master Splinter took his place. "I'll go keep Raphael at bay. The last thing we need is to go looking for him topside." he said. "I'll have my cell shell on...you know, if anything - "

"Don't fret, Leonardo." Master Splinter advised. "All will be well. You go and watch out for your brother."

Leonardo nodded, glancing back briefly at Michelangelo, who was straining to stay awake before he took off after their tempermental brother. He fully understood how his younger brother felt about the whole situation. If Michelangelo could just take one look at himself, then he'd know why they were all so worked up. He was pale. Pale as a green mutant turtle could get. He was like a mint green color now, maybe even lighter and his eyes were bloodshot and droopy, the exhaution clearly seen. Not to mention the nasty blotches that his rat bite wounds had appeared as.

With something like this, Donatello had no clue what he was dealing with. Thus, the reason they had called in for Leatherhead.

He could still see the strained smile that was plastered stupidly on his youngest brother's face. "You just don't know, Mike..." he muttered to himself as he went to leave the lair.

"Yah damn right he don't know..." came a sharp reply from the kitchen.

Leonardo stopped, shook his head and turned to face Raphael, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. "Not exactly good for you at the moment, ya know."

"Might as well," was the remark. "Not like I'm gonna sleep anyway."

"You know," Leonardo began, walking over and pulling up a chair."

"If this is tha start of some bullshit lecture..." Raphael growled, eyeing his older brother.

Leonardo ignored the comment. "You're getting yourself all worked up for nothing, Raph. You're acting as if he's going to die or has some life-threatening disease. He just has a mild fever."

"He can't even pick up his head!" Raphael argued, slamming his cup down on the table. Some of the black coffee inside sloshed onto the table's surface.

"Don figures it's just a harmless effect because of the rat bites." Leonardo stated. "Besides, we have L.H now. If he knew something was up, he would have sent up red flag warnings at us."

"THAT'S HUGE!" a wail burst from the lab. "NOOOO!"

Leonardo and Raphael exchanged glances, making to stand and see what was going on when Donatello stepped out of the lab, fuming. He shook his heads and waved at them to sit down. "We now know that Mikey has a high fear of needles."

"Since when?" Raphael asked, siting back down and smirking at the new information. "We faced the shredhead and let's face it..he's got the whole wolverine thing goin' on." he mimicked the three knifed swipe.

"I'm thinking that's probably what started it." Donatello concluded with a slight shrug. "L.H sent me out here for a breather. He said I was too wound up and needed to relax and let him handle everything unless he really needed my aide."

Leonardo grinned. "That and the fact you can't stop asking him questions about what he's doing." Donatello slouched grumpily over the table at the remark.

"Needles.." Raphael was saying as he set down his coffee. "What a nutjob."

"Hey, Raph." Donatello said, looking at a point just over his brother's shoulder. "You have a spider on your shoulder, I think it might be - "

"ARRRGHHH!" Rapahel lept up and started swatting at himself. "Get 'er off! Get 'er off!"

The two remaining, dissolved into fits of laugher.

* * *

"So, is this an unknown disease or somethin'?" Raphael demanded.

Leatherhead sighed. "Everything came out normal. His strep culture was normal, all his vitals were normal as well as his white blood cell count. I could not pick up on anything foul in his bloodstream. Perhaps, it could be an after effect of the rat bites, Michelangelo received." he explained, then shrugged. "He simply has a fever. Most likey the flu, which you should moderate so it does not transfer into phenomia."

"I think I can handle that." Donatello said, nodding.

"Let's just hope that's all it is and nothing more." Leonardo said.

"Thank you, Leatherhead." Master Splinter replied. "You have helped us greatly."

"It's never a problem, my friends." Leatherhead said solemnly. "If anything changes, you know where to find me."

They all nodded as they watched him exit the lair.

"So...who wants to be second player?" Michelangelo asked slicing the silence. He coughed into his blanket that he had wrapped around his shoulders and settled himself onto the floor in front of the couch. "I think a good game of - hey!" the game and the television were both shut off before his eyes.

"Mikey, you're sick, you have to be in bed." Donatello instructed.

"Dudes, it's only 7 at night!" Michelangelo pointed out. "How about you all come back in about five more hours?" he stiflied a yawn, but it didn't go unnoticed as he sagged against the couch.

"You are more tired than you think, my son." Master Splinter told him. "It is good that you catch up on some rest. Donatello will be up with some medication to ease your fever."

Michelangelo muttered under his breath as he marched towards his room, absentmindedly to scratching at his ankles.

"I think some calimi lotion that Leatherhead brought should be put on those bits to stop him from scratching." Leonardo said, grabbing a pink bottle off the counter. He read over the label. "Once a day."

"I'll miss those mittens." Donatello joked as he and the family follwoed their youngest member.

"Nah," Raphael piped up, smirking. "I took a picture."

* * *

_So...what do you think? Please Review!_

_Caro_


	5. How's and What's and Who's

_Welcome back, readers!_

_Seven months... that's a long time, huh? Senior year = graduation prep and I cannot afford to fail any classes so that's the specific reasoning for my mysterious disappearance. Bwahahahaha! ahem... anywho_

_May 24, 2008 = Graduation! Eeeek! I'm so hyped! You wanna know what else? I got accepted into Princeton - wahoo! (That's where the princess' go) - Cinderlla Story. hehe._

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

For some reason, Raphael found he couldn't sleep knowing that his little brother was sick. They lived in a sewer and it was drafty, but none of them hadn't really gotten badly sick before, they had grown accustomed to the lair's conditions. Sure, when they were younger they were more exposed, especially since they were small and more prone to catching viruses, but as tots none of them never really had a flu. 

Common colds were natural, but each of them usually got over it within a few days due to their father's tender loving care. But, now it seemed so unreal to have something like this strike at their family and to have it come from an outside source - the rats that encountered back at the old warehouse station.

He lifted himself from his hammock and headed out into the hall, rubbing the back of his neck from sleeping wrong. Stifling a yawn, Raphael was about to head down to the kitchen to make some coffee when he stopped by his brother's room. Usually, he'd hear Michelangelo muttering some nonsense or shuffling in his blankets, but not this time. The room was silent, a very uncommon thing. 

"Mikey?" he called softly, lightly rapping on the ajared door. When not receiving any answer, Raphael pushed the door wider and let himself in. He promptly stumbled over something and remembering what a disaster Michelangelo's room was in, he switched on the lamp shade as to not arouse his brother if he was asleep. "Bro, you still sleepin'? 

Michelangelo suddenly moved the blanket away from his head and squinted at Raphael with half closed eyes. "Raph..." he mumbled, his voice was hoarse and he winced, rubbing his throat.

Raphael cringed at the harsh sound of his brother's vocals and sat down beside the bed ridden turtle. He reached out and touched Michelangelo's forehead, but quickly withdrew it. "Damnit, you're burnin' up."

"Hmm?" came the response. His brother was barely conscious at the moment. 

"We gotta get this blanket off ya, bro." Raphael instructed, disentangling the sheets that were wound around his little brother. A glimpse of red caught his eye and Raphael pulled back the covers to discover small blotchy red bumps on the palms of his brother's hands. He took both hangs to get a closer look. "What the fuck, bro?" he said more to himself than Michelangelo. 

This definitely was no flu. 

Raphael left his brother and briskly walked out of the room, only to run into Leonardo. "How's Mike, doing?"

"Not so well, I'm goin' to get Don." he told his older brother.

Leonardo immediately disappeared into Michelangelo's room as Raphael continued down the hall. He burst into Donatello's room, who was sitting at his desk, flipping through a book. He looked up, upon seeing his red clad brother. "Can't sleep either, can - "

"There's somethin' wrong with Mikey." Raphael stated in all seriousness, completely cutting of his sentence. 

Donatello could sense the alarm in Raphael's voice and quickly followed him to Michelangelo's room. When he arrived, Leonardo was already kneeled by the bedside, trying soothe their whimpering brother. 

Donatello smiled softly, looking over his sick brother who was lying in bed once his eyes adjusted to the bright light. 

"Oh shell," the passive turtle muttered at the sight. "What is going on?" 

He kneeled at the bedside, pushing Leonardo over and slowly started to look Michelangelo from head to toe. The small bites that he received from the rats were now worse even with all the antibiotics. The red spots that Raphael had pointed out were spreading onto Michelangelo's wrist and they also seemed to appear at the soles of his feet. Donatello could feel the heat radiating off his brother and the delirious state he was in. 

"What do we do?" Raphael prodded impatiently.

"We need to lower his temperature immediately." Donatello stated. "Raph, I need a washcloth and a bowl of cold water. Leo, draw a warm bath we're gonna submerge Mikey in it."

"On it." Raphael said and rushed out of the room without another word. 

Donatello sighed, staring at his brother. "Calm down, bro. We're all here for you." he whispered, gently stroking Michelangelo's forehead. "Just stay strong, we can't afford to have you give up... we're going to get LH back to help."

"Don...?"

"Don't talk too much, Mikey." Donatello instructed immediately, despite the fact he was relieved to hear his voice. "You'll strain your voice."

Michelangelo nodded in response, trying to stay strong. He hoped none of this was dangerously serious, but by the look on Donatello's face, it was bad. 

"The tub's filling." Leonardo announced, coming back into the room. "Should we lift him?"

"Yeah."

Donatello, slowly and cautiously pulled Michelangelo to a sitting position. The youngest brother moved without complaining as Leonardo tucked his arms under his knees and neck, scooping him up bridal style. The youngest made a sound when his brother spun around too quickly, his stomach lurching as he leaned forward and emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor. 

"Mikey!" Donatello and Leonardo shouted.

Leonardo nearly dropped his brother, his face showing slight disgust of the occurrence. "We'll clean that up later." he said promptly as Michelangelo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He carried Michelangelo into the bathroom and with Donatello's help settled him into the lukewarm water of the tub. The youngest breathed a sigh of relief as he submerged into the water and sunk lower into the liquid as far as he could, his body slowly relaxing. He barely noticed his eyes closing until he was shaken.

"Stay awake, Mikey." Donatello instructed. "We can't have you going under while you're asleep, alright?" 

Michelangelo nodded numbly, suppressing a yawn as he tried to stay awake. 

Master Splinter stepped inside the bathroom, looking older beyond his age. Raphael stood quietly beside their father. 

"I woke Master Splinter so he can know what's goin' on." Raphael told them. He turned to Donatello. "The cloth and the bowl of water is in his room. Not sure if ya wanted it now."

"No, that's good." Donatello replied, "We're gonna use it on his head after his fever goes down a little."

"How is he fairing, Donatello." Master Splinter asked, replacing Leonardo's spot by the tub and laying his paw against Michelangelo's forehead. 

"I'm not sure, but we have to leave him in here for at least a half hour in order for temperature to stabilize." Donatello replied, keeping an eye on his brother. 

Master Splinter nodded, "How has become like this so suddenly?"

"I was gonna ask ya tha same thing. " Raphael quipped.

Donatello shrugged, "I know it isn't the flu, but the only thing that I believe may have caused this is his rat bites." he reached over and touched the small bite on the base of Michelangelo's back, who flinched. "This is not normal healing and we've been taking care of it with the basic products. The rashes is another thing, but Mikey isn't be allergic to rats since... you know, we live with one and he got bitten by one in the sewer a few years back. Everything we tested came out normal... so I'm stumped."

"We should ask for Leatherhead's help again." Leonardo suggested, "We need any type of medical assistance we can get."

"I agree, " Master Splinter replied. "You and Raphael shall go in the morning. If he wishes, he may stay with us."

"What about April?" Raphael asked, "Don't she know 'bout this stuff too?"

"She may, but she wasn't really a doctor." Donatello pointed out.

"She worked in a lab with Baxter Stockman." Raphael said.

"We'll ask April in the morning, guys. After all, she's are only access upside in case we need more products." Leonardo said.

Between the arguing and the talking, Michelangelo had been staring off at a spider on the wall. It was slowly crawling along the stone, stopping every second before it would start moving again. He had reached forwards to kill it, but it suddenly disappeared, leaving him baffled as to how it could have vanished. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and achingly turned his head towards his family who were discussing scenarios and developments of his sudden fever.

The one thing he hate was being talked about without knowing what was being said. He opened his mouth to say something when the lair's security system started to wail loudly.

Donatello sprung from where he was positioned and ran past the others out of the bathroom towards his lab. The numerous surveillance televisions were still on as he checked over which one had triggered the alarm. As he typed quickly into the computer, his eyes caught a shadow passing by camera number fourteen. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of badly wrapped bandages and a trail of rats.

"What's up?" Leonardo asked urgently, coming inside.

"I'm not sure, but I think we have company..."

"What makes you say that?"

At that moment the lights power went off and the lair was sunk into darkness as a malicious laugh filled the stiff air.

* * *

I missed writing these cliff hangers! .  
Please feed the starving author!

Signed,  
Caro


End file.
